Time away from the kid and other wasted evenings

After a five-day Hazel-and-me holiday sans Pop — more on that later, when I’m not jet lagged — the kid is now in Galveston with my parents. Despite her (presumed) exhaustion, she bounded out of bed at 7 a.m. to pack and head to the beach.

Ordinarily, we’d consider spending our time off hitting the bars, or at least having a nice dinner. But between my readjusting to the time difference and Andrew’s nasty disfigurement acquired at South by Southwest, bed is a better option.

This is Andrew’s shin, not his calf. He tried (and failed) to hurdle a wheelchair ramp in Austin. He’s not walking so well these days.